


Taking Angela Out

by Fabrisse



Category: Heroes - Fandom, Profit
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-20
Updated: 2007-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 22:30:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabrisse/pseuds/Fabrisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to my story Deal.  Jim Profit ties up a loose end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Angela Out

_Philosophers say, “Know yourself.” It’s good advice. But it’s better not just to know yourself: know yourself at least as well as your enemy does._

Angela Petrelli’s office looked more like an apartment. There was a desk, delicate and feminine, but the main part of the office was dominated by two sofas and several chairs. It was subtle, but Mrs. Petrelli’s control of the situation would manifest in many ways: where she placed you, where she sat in relationship to you. Profit had to take his metaphorical hat off to her.

“I told you when we last met, it was better not to bring yourself to our attention, Mr. Profit. Yet here you are.” She indicated the end of one sofa. She sat across from him.

“I’ve found Nathan. I thought you’d be happy to have news of your son.”

There was a swift flash of interest, of need, in her eyes. It was quickly hidden behind a mask of graciousness, but it told Profit everything he needed to know about the situation.   
Negotiation was out of the question.

“Nathan’s authorized me to negotiate for him.”

“Tell him, if he comes home - or at least to Las Vegas - he’ll be reunited with Peter. He cares very deeply for his brother.”

Since Profit had shared a bed with them both, he was positive she was right.

“Shouldn’t we discuss the finder’s fee, Mrs. Petrelli.”

Her face became bland. “How much?”

“I’m quite comfortable financially. But there is information. I know The Linderman Group is still interested in Gracen & Gracen.”

“Would you prefer tea or coffee, Mr. Profit?” She walked over to the desk and picked up the telephone.

“Tea. And please call me Jim.”

The answering, “I’m Angela,” came as she sat next to him.

“There are other intangibles, Angela.” He looked at her deeply and smiled.

“Your scar. It’s so similar to his.” She started to reach toward his face.

When she hesitated, he pulled her hand to his face and let her fingertips trace the scar. “My father showed me some uses for a straight razor. I was twelve.”

“Nathan’s was from a machete in Rwanda.”

He let his eyes dilate from the physical pleasure of her touch. “I’m sure there are other differences. The most important is, I’m not your son.” He lowered his gaze to her mouth and leaned toward her. He stopped when she gasped, but didn’t lean back. Angela completed the kiss.

“I sent him away to school when he started looking like a man.” Her voice was confidential. Her breath tickled his ear as he mouthed his way down her neck. “How far down does your scar go?"

He pulled back with a tiny smirk. “Won’t the tea be here soon?” Profit loosened his tie and opened the collar of his shirt.

“They’ll wait.” Her fingers trailed down his neck.

“Good.” He took off his tie and jacket, then wrapped one arm around her and pulled her close.

Angela practically devoured him. Her hands clawed at his shirt impatient with the buttons.

He opened her jacket and unhooked her bra. Profit slid his hand up her thigh and removed her pantyhose. Angela stopped to look at him. When he smiled, knowingly, she kissed him and opened his pants.

He got the condom on quickly and pulled her onto him. Profit licked and suckled at her bare breasts as she rode him, grinding against him. He timed his thrusts to Angela’s need and judged the moment to finger her clit to make her come.

Angela bit his neck, as he brought her back to climax. Then he thrust hard, twice, and let himself come.

A few minutes later, she smiled against his mouth and stood. They kept their eyes on each other as they dressed, small smiles promising more later. Angela rang a bell and tea arrived.

Profit put the pills in her cup as he reached for the sugar. She was so busy looking at his face, enjoying his hand on her knee, that she didn’t notice. When he gave her a small knowing smile, Angela sipped her tea to cover her reaction.

When he noticed a faint twitch begin in her hand, he picked up his coat, pulled on his gloves, and walked out before the teacup slipped from her grasp.

Before leaving the building, Profit stopped by security and degaussed the tapes for the day. He didn’t want Nathan Petrelli to be suspected. It might end their very satisfactory relationship.


End file.
